Frankly, On Faith: Do All Things
by Molly Jo Realy @RealMojo68
So here’s something to prove my point: I’ve tried three times to write this post. The first two took a turn, so will be upcoming posts. But this one. I can’t seem to get it quite right.
Ridiculous, when you consider the topic.
All I’m trying to say is, God gives us what we need, when we need it.
Because we’re not God. We can’t do it all.
But He is. And He can.
And we’re in Him.
So, really, we can.
“For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.”
~Philippians 4:13, NLT
Just open the door, let Him in, take a deep breath, and let Him work.
Simple? Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes we want to hold on, or change the method, or the outcome. We’re control freaks like that. Am I right? We’re such control freaks that we wear ourselves out trying to not show weakness. And sometimes we wear ourselves out to the point that all anyone sees is a pile of I-don’t-care-anymore mush. A puddle of perkless blechiness.
We’re trying so hard to do it all that we end up not being able to do anything.
We live in a multi-tasking, SuperHero environment. We forget it’s okay to step back, say “no” or “not now,” and rest.
So letting Him be the project manager of our life is sometimes kinda hard to deal with. We don’t want another someone telling us what to do, even if we know we can’t do it alone. You with me?
The thing is, He’s been there. He can see on the other side of the wall, and He knows the best way to get us over it.
So for today, I’m taking that deep breath and letting Him lead. Because I don’t want to be that overwhelmed, coffee-addict, multi-tasker that barks at everyone when things don’t get done. I’d rather be the calm, sweet tea-drinking, enjoy-the-moment kinda girl.
Besides. He’s really the one who does it all, anyway.
Sometimes, doing everything through Christ doesn’t mean He helps us do it all. It means we filter everything we do through Him. And that sometimes means tossing out the pieces that no longer fit.
See? He’s already pruning away the weeds and all you did was take a breath.
Sometimes, doing everything means starting by doing nothing.
With a blank page and a peaceful heart,
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!